A Magical Retreat in Italy: Monastero Santa Rosa

Ann Abel
, ContributorI know the difference between expensive travel and the truly luxuriousOpinions expressed by Forbes Contributors are their own.

When Bianca Sharma was showing me around Monastero Santa Rosa, the lovely small hotel she owns on the Amalfi Coast, an Italian guest interrupted us to tell her how much she loved the experience and how much the place made her proud to be Italian. Sharma thanked her generously and beamed with pride.

That, it turns out, is her favorite compliment among the many the hotel receives. That’s because she herself is not Italian but an American who was born in Germany. But in the nearly two decades that she has been creating and operating the hotel, she has immersed herself so thoroughly in the region’s history and modern culture that this guest insisted that she must be half Italian.

Monastero Santa Rosa

An aerial view

It was love at first sight when Sharma came across the shell of a 17th-century monastery, on the Conca dei Marini promontory midway between Positano and Almafi. On an Italian holiday in 2000, she was boating in the Gulf of Salerno when, she says, her eyes rested on “this majestic yet ruined monastery extending from but disappearing into the rock.” She was immediately captivated, bought the property, moved to Italy and began the 12-year project of restoring the building to its former (or, rather, a new level of) glory.

It had been run as a hotel since the 1920s, but the accommodations even in its heyday were “crude at best,” says Sharma. There were only three bathrooms in the whole place, which now has 12 rooms and 8 suites. The last of the family who had run the hotel during the 20th century had died, and the building was falling into ruin.

She worked closely with a local team of architects and historical authorities to maintain the monastery’s structural integrity and original atmosphere. A Neapolitan carpenter made much of the furniture, and Sharma sourced much of the rest at street fairs and markets in Naples and the towns of the Amalfi Coast. A number of pieces remain from the days of the nuns. (“Monastery” was used for both monks and nuns.) So do a good number of 1960s photos of glamorous guests enjoying the coast.

Monastero Santa Rosa

The hotel on its promontory

So do some of the nuns' traditions. They supported themselves by selling homemade tonics, so guests are welcomed with lemonade—this region being lemon central—and tonics. They became famous for their sfogliatelle, a sweet, shell-shaped, filled pastry that eventually became known as a “Santa Rosa”—so they’re always in the breadbasket at breakfast. She says that "reviving the spirit of Santa Rosa to keep its historical memory alive and relevant today” became her “steadfast purpose.”

An original confessional sits (unused) in a corridor. Guests are encouraged to write down their feedback and leave it in “confession boxes.” The architecture is distinctly cloister-like, although each room is now at least two nuns’ rooms combined, and many are four nuns’ rooms. (I recently stayed, as Sharma’s guest, in one of the smaller rooms and found it a bit snug.) Each has its own Jerusalem stone bathroom now, of course, outfitted with Santa Maria Novella bath products, another brand that traces its history to a centuries-old monastery. (It’s also the product line used in the extensive spa.)

Many have private landscaped terraces with exquisite sea views. But the shared spaces, whether rooftop or garden terraces, are expansive, and they have similarly spellbinding vistas. Plus, hotel staff are at the ready to pour an aperitif.

Monastero Santa Rosa

The outdoor dining area

That’s the prelude to an impressive dinner. The restaurant, Il Refettorio, won its first Michelin star shortly after my stay. I wasn’t surprised to hear the news. My arrival was quite late, so they had arranged for a “light dinner” in my room—which turned out to be a feast of caprese salad, octopus carpaccio, burrata and much more deliciousness. Dinner the following night, in the formal dining room, was no less impressive: masterful pasta and seafood, rich with the flavors of the village.

Back to my tour with Sharma. As we neared the end, we came across an American couple who told her that they never wanted to check out. They promised to make their reservation for the following year before they departed. I joked with her about whether she had planted all these complimentary guests (obviously not) and told her that was some strong testimony. That’s nothing, she told me. The day before, that same couple had made a serious offer to buy the place.

Of course, she’s not ready to hand over her labor of love. She still has a lot of majesty she intends to add.